


How Do You Know That You're Right?

by indevan



Series: Rock Band AU [33]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: Tarble feels--better.  He likes knowing he has his brother in his corner now





	How Do You Know That You're Right?

**Author's Note:**

> [AU timeline](http://vertigoats.tumblr.com/post/166537761367/since-after-the-first-few-the-fics-in-rock-band)

Caulifla fans herself with one hand, but it’s to no avail.  The city is a broiler this time of year--she knows that and yet she and Tarble still have ventured outside to the waving, shimmering pavement and smell of exhaust fumes.

Tarble wrinkles his nose as they pass a hot nuts cart.

“God, I can’t think of hot food today.”

He grabs the front of his shirt and rapidly moves it back and forth in an attempt to get some air circulating.

“Same.”

Usually the smell of the nut cart is inviting, but today it just makes her feel queasy.

“I almost want to just go back and stay on campus,” Tarble continues and she knows, though he tries to hide it, he’s just as grouchy and dramatic as his brother. “I forgot how bad the summer gets.”

It’s the press of bodies, the fumes, the buildings--the bustle of the city.  Caulifla has to agree.

“I’m glad you’re here, though,” she says. “You’re part of our squad now.”

“Am I?” Tarble arches a brow. “So I should, what?  Learn guitar to start playing with U6?”

She elbows him in the side and he laughs.

“No, dingus.  I mean to hang out.  Especially since you’re taking my job away from me this summer.”

They stop in front of the open doors of a bodega.  The owner has kindly placed a fan near the door and if they stand as close as they are, the breeze hits them.

“What job?”

“Watching Trunks.”

Tarble turns towards the fan and closes his eyes into the blowing air.

“It’s a job?  Like my brother pays you?”

She snorts inelegantly. “Oh, no.  Not at all.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Caulifla figures that they’ve sapped enough free air and should at least go in to not look like total assholes.  Tarble follows suit.  It’s mostly air-conditioned in here--or, at least, it’s a reprieve from outside.  She walks straight back to the cold cases in the back, just to be near something cool.

They aren’t the only ones.  Other people, young and old, are in various states of half-dressed as they linger in front of the glass-front cases.

She leans against it, glad to feel the cold on the part of her back that her tank top doesn’t cover and breathes out.

“So, speaking of hanging out...what’s with you and Cabba?”

Tarble freezes for a moment in the midst of examining a selection of brightly colored sodas that undoubtedly taste like melted popsicles.  His mouth stills for a moment and then he sighs.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” she scoffs and gestures away from herself to shoo away the obvious lie.

Tarble opens up the case and selects a bottle of diet Dr. Pepper.  The blast of chilled air seems to draw the other patrons like a beacon and Caulifla gives them a dirty look to shoo them off.

“I mean.” He sighs. “Yeah, we slept together but it’s not like anything is going to happen.”

Caulifla reaches into the case to grab an extremely tall can of some cherry limeade concoction and shuts the door.

“Why not?  You two like a ton of the same shit.”

Tarble is a literature student and she’s seen him and Cabba argue about different romantic poets or some bullshit she doesn’t care about on more than one occasion.  The can is amazingly cold in her hand so it isn’t too hard to leave the protective back of the store and make her way to the register to pay.  Tarble comes up behind her and shrugs.

“It’s tricky,” he says. “I did like him, but I can’t.  There’s stuff I can’t overlook.”

Caulifla bounces from foot to foot behind the person in front of them and sighs.  She presses the inside of her wrists against the curved edge of the can in an attempt to cool down and glances back at Tarble.

“What stuff?”

“Well, first off, I’m sorta seeing someone right now.  And second--”

“Scusi?!” she exclaims.

Other patrons in the now crammed bodega stare at her but Caulifla has never cared about that sort of thing.

“Keep your voice down--and yeah.  I met him at Sorrel’s when I waited on his table and we’ve been kinda going out for the past couple weeks.”

“Weeks?” she repeats. “And you didn’t tell me?”

She steps up for her turn to pay and keeps facing Tarble even as she digs down in her pocket for enough wilted money and hot coins to pay for her drink.

“Because you’ll tell my brother,” he says simply. “And he’ll get weird about it.”

Caulifla slides her money across the counter and shakes her head when the cashier offers her a receipt.

“Will he?  I feel like Vegeta would just go ‘I don’t give a shit.’”

“Well, the guy’s a little older so he might get.  I dunno.  I just know you’d tell him.”

She steps aside to allow Tarble to pay and makes a face.

“I wouldn’t tell him.”

He fixes her with a look and she sighs.

“Yeah, okay, I couldn’t say that with a straight face.  I would definitely tell him.”

“Exactly.”

Once he’s finished, they step back out into the unrelenting heat.  Caulifla pops the tab on her can and takes a long drink.

“So that’s it?  Some vegan dude?”

He sighs again as he twists the cap on his bottle of Dr. Pepper.  She always teases him that he got a job waiting tables at a vegan restaurant for the summer despite the fact that he subsists almost entirely on cheeseburgers.

“That’s not--he’s...shut up.  I don’t have to tell you anything.”

She smirks, knowing she got to him.  Tarble is so much like his brother in many ways, and not just in looks.  It’s so easy to razz him.

“Right.  So other than this dude, why wouldn’t it work out with Cabba?”

“Not just ‘this dude,’ okay?  We’re...ugh, fine.  The thing with Cabba is because he wants to fuck my brother and I’m not going to play second fiddle.  Okay?”

He tips his soda bottle to his mouth and chugs angrily.

“Really?  That’s the reason?”

“He practically worships him,” Tarble says.

They stop briefly at a crosswalk but everyone around them has already started jaywalking in front of idling taxis and so they follow suit.

“He’s gotten better about it now that they actually know each other,” she allows.

She can’t lie.  Cabba  _ was _ absolutely in love with Vegeta.  More than once, back in high school, he would drag her out downtown to go see Apetail perform so he could stare moon-eyed at the stage.

“He got a jacket like his and pierced his right ear like him--”

“He has other piercings.”

Cabba is her lifelong best friend so Caulifla feels like she should stick up for him.

“I guess.  I just...I dunno.” He shrugs. “Things are still weird and I don’t.  I don’t want to spend a relationship worrying if I’m just a stand-in.”

She figures that that’s fair.  Admittedly she only knows the bare bones of Vegeta and Tarble’s fucked up childhoods so there are obviously scars there.

“I guess.  So who’s the guy?”

He shakes his head resolutely.

“Nope.”

She knocks him in the arm with her can.

“Rude.”

\--

He isn’t sure how to bring it up but he’s extremely glad that his brother let him stay in his apartment for the summer.  Going home has always been a struggle and moreso as the years go on.  Their father says he’s trying but Tarble isn’t ready to spend another summer in the house on haunted hill.  He thinks Vegeta might be a little bit jealous of Tarble and their father even though he would never say it.  Like part of him thinks Tarble got to have the teen years he missed out on but he doesn’t know that the true misery is being alone with dad.

So he’s glad.  He sleeps on the couch but it’s preferable to the alternative and he gets to spend time with Trunks, the cutest toddler in the city.

“No!” Trunks wails. “I want!”

He smacks Tarble with one tiny fist.

“Trunks,” Bulma calls warningly from the table where she’s grading papers. “You be nice to Uncle Tarble.”

Tarble brings his book back.  He doesn’t think Trunks has an actual vested interest in Samuel Taylor Coleridge but he’s decided that he wants it and there’s very little arguing with him.  It reminds Tarble of growing up with his brother, in a way, even though he was older than him.

“Read to me!” he demands

Trunks glares at him with all the intensity that a two-and-a-half-year-old can possess and Tarble blinks nervously.

“Uh, sure.”

Immediately, he brightens and flings himself happily against Tarble’s side.

“Yay!”

He figures that if he sticks to the stanza he had been currently trying to analyze rather than starting at the beginning, Trunks won’t notice or care.  He reads to him for a little bit, amazed at how Trunks seems to be paying attention to what he’s saying.  Which is good because this isn’t a favored poem of his but it’s required reading over the summer.

“O’ let me be awake, my God!  Or let me sleep away,” he recites. “And--ack!”

Someone shoves his feet off of where he had propped them on the coffee table and Tarble looks up to see his brother has emerged from the bedroom.  He still holds his guitar in one hand and is wearing a sour look.

“Daddy!”

Trunks scrambles off of him, not at all caring that the poem was interrupted, and wraps his arms around his father’s legs.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Cauli told me you’re seeing someone.”

_ Called it. _

He shrugs. “I mean, it’s not really anything.  We’re just dating.”

He thinks so, anyway.  He’s spent the night at his place and they’ve gone on dates, but neither has used any sort of label.  On some level, Tarble hates it.  He wants to have some kind of clue or indication of where it’s going.  He knows where he’d  _ like _ it to go, but that’s apparently neither here nor there in this day and age.

“Uh-huh.”

Vegeta puts his guitar down and leans down to scoop Trunks up into his arms.

“Why don’t we go on a double date?” Bulma suggests.  She smiles wryly and props her chin in one hand.  In the other, she gestures with the red pen in her hand.

“Since when do you two go on double dates with anyone?” he asks.

“No one else is dating my brother,” he explains.

In the past couple years, Tarble has been extremely grateful for how his and his brother’s relationship has repaired itself but he doesn’t think they’re at that level yet.

“You won’t like him,” he says, “he’s...um.  A little older than me?”

Trunks reaches up to tug on Vegeta’s hair. “Toss me.”

With a grin, he tosses the giggling toddler down onto the couch.  Trunks waves his arms in the air.

“Again!  More!”

“How much older?” he asks.  He reaches down to pull Trunks back up again and arches his brows at Tarble.

Tarble messes with the pages of the poem and bites his lip.

“He’s your age.”

“Too old.”

He tosses Trunks back onto the couch and luckily the screeching laughter of his nephew is enough to stave off any conversation until he’s quieted.

“Only five years,” he says. “And I’m turning twenty-one this year.  I’m not--I’m not a little kid.”

Bulma has come over to join in on tickling Trunks while he squeals and squirms on the couch.  Tarble takes a moment to watch them, still amazed at the smile on his brother’s face.  He never really saw them smile as kids.  He was always scowling or sneering or glowering at everyone who looked at him.  The only time he  _ did _ smile was to grin whenever Kakarrot whispered something in his ear about whatever party they were going to that night.  Now he has a genuine smile on his face while he’s with his son and girlfriend and--okay.  He’s changed and Tarble’s changed and their relationship is better.  Maybe he can tell him.

“If I tell you,” he says once the volume gets to a reasonable level, “will you promise not to freak out?”

Bulma makes an undignified sound before nuzzling her nose in Trunks’s hair.  Vegeta scowls at her for a moment but then makes a “tch” sound through his teeth.  He moves his hand out and sighs.

“Sure.”

Tarble draws in a breath and tells him.

\--

Lapis stares at the mess in front of him and makes a distressed sound.  He honestly didn’t know that weddings were this involved.  Part of him just wants to go to a courthouse and have it all said and done but most of him wants the pomp.  He wants everyone to know he loves his boyfriend.

“So Raditz nixed the idea of getting married barefoot in the forest, huh?” Lazuli asks.

He nods. “Yeah.  He’s grossed out by bugs.”

He smiles, thinking of his terminally city boy boyfriend.  He never thought this would be his life, but he’s glad it is.  He’s glad circumstance (or, really, Yamcha and Raditz’s mutual horniness for one another) led to them becoming acquainted in that hallway.

“Okay, so we can still find some quirky venue or something for you.”

Lazuli seems to shine as a wedding planner even though she isn’t letting it be shone.  She approaches it with the same deadpan disinterest she does with everything, but he knows his sister enough to know it’s a front.

“Right.  Maybe--”

He’s interrupted by a sudden pounding on the door.  Lapis frowns--Raditz is due to come over to talk about wedding plans but he gave him a key.  And if it were anyone else, they would have to be buzzed in unless one of his neighbors let him in.  And if the neighbors  _ did _ let Raditz in because he forgot his key, he wouldn’t be banging on the door like a slasher killer.

“16, are you in there?  Open the door, I just want to talk!”

He glances at his sister and Lazuli shrugs.  The voice sounds familiar, but it isn’t his boyfriend.  16 walks out from his bedroom, a look of mixed confusion and concern on his face.

“That sounds like Vegeta,” he says. “What does he want with you?”

“I have no idea.”

Lazuli stares at the door. “Should we let him in?”

16 sighs. “I believe that’s for the best.  See what he wants.”

Lapis slides off of his chair and undoes the lock to allow him entry.  Vegeta immediately pushes past him.  He’s practically radiating heat and he’s sweaty as if he ran here and because he’s wearing a jean jacket in the hottest recorded day in the city in the past fifteen years.

“Why the fuck are you banging my brother?” he demands.

He immediately shares a look with his sister.  He  _ thought _ that 16 was seeing someone and now he has proof.

“I’m not dating your brother,” 16 says mildly. “I’m dating Tarble Prince.”

“Yeah--Prince.  And I’m Vegeta Prince, fuckface.”

16 blinks rapidly as if he never put the two together before.  Lapis has met Vegeta’s younger brother.  The actually look a lot alike with their short stature, surprisingly stocky builds, and giant-ass foreheads but 16 probably hasn’t spent enough time around him to notice.

The door swings open again and--there he is.  Lapis goes back to his seat and enjoys the show.  Oh, sure, 16 is one of his best friends and he doesn’t want him to be in this situation, but it  _ is _ kind of enjoyable.

Tarble runs up to his brother and then gets between him and 16.

“This isn’t ‘not being weird’ about it!” he exclaims, distressed. “Please.  I really like Alexandrite.”

Vegeta glares at him and then back at 16.

“You’re too old for him.”

“He’s not!” Tarble insists. “It’s  _ five years, _ and we’re adults.  GeeGee, please?”

Lapis smothers his laugh with one hand at the nickname, but something about it seems to resonate in Vegeta because he backs down.

“Treat him right,” he says, still glaring at 16, “Or you’ll hear from me.”

“I will,” he says, “not just because I like him and would not wish to harm him but also because I feel like you know how to hide a body without someone knowing.”

That gets a slight smirk out of him.

“If he doesn’t then Bulma does,” Lazuli chimes in helpfully.

“Sorry, Alex.”

Tarble winces and puts a hand on 16’s arm.  16 smiles fondly at him and strokes his face.

“Don’t worry about it.  Are we still on for Friday?”

He nods, smiles. “Definitely.”

The two brothers turn to go just as the door opens a third time and the one person Lapis had been expecting arrives.

“Hey, uh--Geta, what are you doing here?” Raditz asks.

“Don’t worry about it.”

He and Tarble leave and Raditz looks around the apartment in confusion.

“Do I wanna know what just happened?”

Lapis shakes his head as he rises to his feet to kiss him hello.

“Probably not.”

\--

It’s early evening but still oppressively hot as they walk towards the subway station from the apartment building.  Tarble fiddles with the hem of his t-shirt and frowns down at his feet.

“I’m sorry I called you that,” he says. “I mean.  Mom’s nickname for you.”

Vegeta shrugs and lights a cigarette.  He wonders how between the smoke and his jacket that he isn’t melting.

“It’s just been a while since I heard it.” He flicks his lighter shut and jams it into his back pocket.

“Yeah.” He swipes his tongue over his lips and adds, “You aren’t gonna freak out on Alex again, are you?”

He shrugs.

“As long as he’s not a dick to you.” He drops ash on the sidewalk and squints at the setting sun. “I’m trying.  I dunno, to not be such a shit to you.”

“You don’t have to beat up my boyfriend to prove that to me,” he says.

“Would it help?”

“No.”

They stand in silence at the top of the steps leading down since a sign helpfully informs them that there’s no smoking below or on the train.

“You’re already...like letting me stay with you and Bulma and just.  I dunno.  We talk now.  It’s a lot better,” he says.

“Is it?”

Tarble looks into the gaping maw off the subway station and fiddles with his shirt again.

“Wanna get something to eat before we head home?” he asks. “There’s this great burger place a few blocks down we can walk to.”

“Sure.”

They begin walking and Tarble feels--better.  He likes knowing he has his brother in his corner now.

“I just didn’t expect you to go for 16.” He exhales smoke through his nose. “We went on that group tour and the guy’s a fucking enigma.  But I was drunk off my ass half of the time so what do I know?”

Tarble chances a laugh.

“I like him.  He’s.  Calming--and sweet.”

“I thought you and Cabba were gonna be a thing.”

Vegeta drops his cigarette and stomps on it.  Tarble stares at the smashed cigarette and sighs.

“You too?” He shakes his head. “It’ll never happen.”

“If you say so.”

His brother walks on ahead and Tarble stares after him.

“What does that mean?”

He gets no answer.


End file.
